


Change

by EnergonGiraffes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 10:34:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/952059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnergonGiraffes/pseuds/EnergonGiraffes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt - Write about how something or someone has changed over the years and how they are the same. </p>
<p>Summery - The Impala and how she’s changed. Kinda angsty… I need to stop writing angsty shit because it makes me sad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

The Impala was long and black and sleek and perfect. She’s Dean’s Baby. She’s been kicking since ‘67 and still has years left to go. The Impala is his girl. A lot of people would joke around that she is his lover, and Dean would readily joke back with them but it wasn’t exactly true. Baby is part of the family; just as vital a member as their mom and dad still are. She’s as tough as a Winchester too. Dean has rebuilt her a full three times. Once when they got hit by a semi truck driven by a demon possessed man, a second when he just needed to do something with his hands, and a final third when stupid Crowley and his army of souls overturned the poor girl. He rebuilt her exactly the same all three times and he knew every inch of her. Down to the lest bolt.

There’s the little toy soldier still jammed into the ashtray on the left side door. Its metal, not plastic, and that makes Dean feel older then he’d like to admit. The little green painted figure was stuck in there after Sammy had used the car as some sort of base when he younger and then forgot about it. Dad had either never saw it or he had secretly liked it there and had left it. Over so many years it had melted and permanently adhered itself to the car - although his little hand and part of his gun where now missing in action. 

There are still legos stuck in the air vents. They rattle around inside whenever anyone switches on the AC. Dean doesn’t remember exactly remember how they got themselves lodged in there, although he vaguely remembers his own tiny hands having some role in in it. 

On the back right door S.W. and D.W, are still engraved into the wooden panel. Both pairs of initials have been there for exactly the same amount of time, done on the exact same day. They boys where eleven and eight at the time and Dean remembers it as clearly as if it yesterday. He would have never done this alone; take a butterfly knife to this car , but with little Sammy right next to him he ruled the world and nothing seemed scary. Not even the wrath of their father could deter them. John -though angry at first- had quickly forgot about it. He just ruffled Sammy’s hair and never actually did replace the panel, and neither did Dean. Dean could remember Sammy and he laying stretched out on the back seat together for hours. Talking and complaining about anything and everything that came to their little minds. Where most kids had tree houses or clubs the Impala was theirs; It was their personal hang out.

Theses where things that made the car theirs.

The small of used leather was still thick in the air. That blood stain on the back of the divers seat was from Sam’s first real hunt. If you closed your eyes and thought about it you could almost still smell the nicotine from deans short lived habit. It was so utterly familiar …

But there where new things as well. Subtle. Just hints that the car was still theirs and like family, ever changing. 

The shoe box full to the brim with cassette tapes was still stuffed underneath the driver seat. It was full of good things; the sound track to their never ending road trip. Metalica, Led Zeppelin, AC/DC. Miraculously the only tape that broke in any of the crashes was one of the many Black Sabbath tapes. It had been quickly replaced at a truck stop in Texas. There where always good tapes at truck stops.

The trunk of the Impala was mostly the same. There where still weapons there of course. There always had been since the day their father had started hunting —- which was as long as either of them could remember. The only thing that had changed was the owner of the guns and the state of how organized (or lack their of) they where. The weapons where no longer john Winchesters. The trunk was Sam and Dean’s. their were shotguns and machetes. Silver knifes and copper. A weapon to kill almost any baddie under the sun. A can of gasoline and a box of rock salt lay next to each other romantically and a box of matches was somewhere nearby to complete the team. 

Underneath the front seat a laptop rested. It was a very vital -and new- part of the Winchesters career. It hadn’t been there when the car was new. At first it was because they didn’t exist and then, later on, because John didn’t find the useful. But Sam found it extremely helpful and he used it every chance he got. Dean had to admit it made the job a lot easier and it wasn’t only because he had a folder of porn hidden on it somewhere. 

The glove box wads full of a multitude of cell phones. More now then there had ever been. Five of them where there fathers. They kept them encase any of his old contacts decided to ring him again. The rest where mostly deans. There where all together around twenty of the things. One for every major alias he’d crated. Along with the phones there where two small boxes. One was full of fake id’s and the other held literally hundreds of illegal credit cards, all with a different name.

But the best parts of the car, dean though, were the little signs that they went alone in this. The reminder that they still had family left. 

Bobby’s hat was laid up against the back window, his flask in deans pocket. The angel Castiel’s trench coat was balled up on the back seat; still with the imprint of deans head and the trace of his tears - although the hunter would never admit it. Gabriel’s DVD was somewhere in the car (neither of the boys would watch it of course but they couldn’t bring themselves to throw it out either). One of Balthazar’s bottles of French wine tolled back and forth on the seat. Jo’s necklace and one of Ellen’s bracelets hung as a memorial from the mirror. A picture of mom was taped to the dashboard. She was holding a new born baby Sammy as dean hugged her tightly; looking down in awe at his brother wrapped in blue. A blurry piece of johns finger was visible on the right edge. Dad’s journal a was open on Sam’s lap as he read away; trying to figure out if dad had been in the town they where currently driving through and if their was any need to stop.

All of it was theirs and Dean did pray to god -he needed to think of a better term then that- that the car had an extremely long future in store for them. She was like family after all, and after losing so much you have to hang on to the ones you love.


End file.
